Kindred Spirits A Crimson Love
by A-Kindred-Spirit
Summary: Anastasia is attacked by the hunter - a beautiful but deadly creature. An impossible romance shrouded by mystery and darkness. A story of two different souls entwined in one uncertain fate. A work in progress : .
1. Part One

**Kindred Spirits – Part One**

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Disclaimer

This story links concepts and ideas expressed in various vampiric universes such as vampire beach, twilight and 'vampires'. Full credit must be given to the authors who invented and created different interpretations of the vampire. The vampire portrayed in this piece can be closely related to those found throughout folklore and characters are ficticious in nature but the story is an original idea. Hope you enjoy :). Review if you like what you read - thanks for reading guys :).

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Preface

The piercing shrill of pain radiated through Anastasia's body as she hurried through the woods in flight of a ruthless predator. Her recently battered face was white with fear as the reality of what was happening frightened her to the core. Her white blouse, now stained a distinct scarlet, stuck to her skin as a crimson liquid flowed from an open wound on her arm – she bent to her knees and leant on the base of a tree bracing for the worst. Her pupils dilated and then sprung wide as the hunter approached, brandished fangs, ready to deliver the final blow. He grabbed Anastasia by the throat and lifted her off the ground. The agonising sensation of pain filled Anastasia's veins as the parasite feasted from her life force. His long jet black hair blew away from his forehead, in the cool winter's breeze, revealing his deathly pale skin. She knew exactly what the beast was and exactly what her fate was – she was doomed to eternal damnation.

'Ill offer you a choice' the mysterious figure muttered staring lazily at his prey.

'It would be a shame for such an exquisite jewel to go to waste – I am going to cut my wrist. If you choose to drink a new life begins and if not your current life ends. A whole new world awaits you; all you have to do is cross the bridge. Become my _kindred spirit _and I will guide you through your journey.'

Moving his hand to his belt the hunter unsheathed a small silver dagger. Grasping it by the hilt he lightly slit the surface of his wrist causing blood to pool at the surface.

Anastasia jerked her head violently towards the mysterious figure's arm repulsed at what she was about to do. She had so much to live for and too much to lose and the slightest chance of seeing her family again was worth selling her soul to Satan.

'You play the devil's advocate very well young one; you'll have an eternity to discover who you truly are'.

In haste and in spite Anastasia grabbed the man's arm consuming the red substance. Her eyes weakened and the pain became too much to bare. The hunter looked on in disbelief, staring idly, almost caught in a trance - shocked at the sight he had just witnessed. Adjusting to the unusual circumstances he broke his stern gaze and grabbed Anastasia lightly wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Something had changed within the heart of the hunter and he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. Distant emotions flooded his head that had been absent for so very long.

She had been made something different that night – a creature to the shadows banished until the end of time.

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Chapter One

The light patter of rain drops could be heard all across the forest. The calls and melodies of birds could be heard echoing from the tree tops. There he waited and watched, as Anastasia lay in a deep sombre, nestled upon a bed of beautiful wild flowers. The rich aroma of roses could be smelt vaguely across the small oasis capturing the nostrils of all those who dared enter. Upon a smooth rock face he sat quietly, gazing off into the distance, immersed in thought, appreciating a moment of pure silence. The rustling of leaves triggered an instinctual reaction from the hunter, breaking his trance as he stood upwards and made his way slowly towards his victim. He stared sternly at his prey; the blood soaked rags which covered her bare body were once clothes – the ravages of the pursuit could be seen all over her figure. A feeling of great guilt had burrowed itself within his mind, he knew, deep inside, that he simply did not have it in him to end such a beautiful existence.

Her eyes slowly opened, scanning the new environment. Anastasia's face was coloured a luminous shade of pale and the gaping wounds she had once had seemed to have disappeared. She tilted her head slightly and sat upwards in awe of her new surroundings, gazing across the small oasis before a certain someone grabbed her attention.

'Who are you?' she whispered softly as her eyes locked on the mysterious figure.

'My name is Benjamin Gregory Archibald but my name isn't what is important'

'What are you doing here?' she retorted instantaneously in disregard of what was just said.

'I am not actually sure of that myself' he replied.

Anastasia's eyes wondered from Ben and made their way to her fingers. She held her hands out in front of her to discover that her once bronzed olive skin was a bright shade of white. In horror she leered at Ben, as her natural instincts kicked in.

'What am I?' she wailed in a panic.

'You are just like me' Ben said smugly.

Anastasia paused for a second and let the information sink in, she got to her feet and made her way to a nearby tree. She rested her arm on the long thick trunk and began to cry violently. She shuddered as Ben drew closer unable to expect what agenda the stranger had. He paced over to her idly and rested his hand on her shoulder. Anastasia, bewildered by grief, turned around and hugged the hunter, holding his muscular body against hers. Benjamin was taken by surprise unable to make a direct movement. He thought for a second and then found his arms wrapping around her back almost instinctually. Human warmth, a sensation he had not felt in almost a hundred years.

Ben pulled Anastasia closer as she sobbed into his shoulder. The serenity of the tranquil atmosphere was now filled with sounds of great pain – the tragedy which had become her life could be heard by the entire forest. This was a fate she had to accept, one she would live with for the rest of her life.

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Chapter Two

He walked over to his prey silently, concentrating on each footstep. Two drunks stood outside the front of the village's tavern, rambling with one another in various pitched slurs. The taller of the two stood at about six foot two, with a large beer belly, whilst the smallest of the pair measured at a shorter five foot ten. Stalking the pair Ben kept to the shadows carefully tracing each manoeuvre. The two men made their goodbyes and headed in opposite directions. Ben tracked the smallest of the pair, following at a short distance, ready to make a strike. The drunk fumbled through his pockets and grabbed out a small key, trying to insert it into the door with a great degree of difficulty. Ben laughed loudly alerting the man of his presence and ambled towards him carelessly. With one clean sweep he knocked the man out cold. Anastasia, horrified, looked on helplessly as Ben was about to feed. She moved her head carefully from behind the rooftop; she was perched on, and moved quickly to Ben's size. She knew deep inside she could not stop him but Anastasia knew she had to try.

She moved her delicate hand to his side and entwined her fingers with his. With his fangs revealed Ben suddenly dropped his victim to the floor - the man stumbled to his feet and scrambled away. He looked over at her puzzled, unsure about what had just happened. Anastasia placed her other hand on Ben's face caressing his perfect features. She smiled at him warmly and motioned him to sit on the crumbling brick ledge beside them. He sat down first, hesitantly moving as far away from her without breaking eye contact. With a sigh she scooted over next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

'Please Benjamin, try and change for me. I see human life as something worth keeping – not something to destroy when you surrender to you inner urges' she said with a tear in her eye.

His eyes slanted before drifting towards the bright orange horizon – the autumn colours painted the scarlet sky as the sun began to rise.

'We must leave, we will speak later' he whispered quietly as he grabbed Anastasia around the waist draping her over his shoulder. With a great burst of speed his feet began moving, each stride executed gracefully as they moved swiftly into the wood. Anastasia gazed at the crystal clear landscape as it became a series of blurred images - they both dashed towards an unknown destination nestled somewhere in the vast mystical forest.

With a sudden jolt Ben came to ridge – he slid elegantly down and came to a small wooden door. He removed a weathered brass key from his pocket and inserted it into the sturdy wooden door. Twisting the key in an anti-clockwise direction he unlocked the door, walked in, and gently placed Anastasia on a large velvet couch. Fascinated by the fabric Anastasia ran her petite fingers along the foreign material feeling its strange sensation as she moved her hand to the arm of the couch. Readjusting her position she crossed her legs and sat upright.

The room was decorated in earthen colours comprising of bright shades of terracotta, beige and cream. Ornaments and antiques were neatly arranged in the corners hinting a rustic charm. A small fire place lay beneath the cedar mantle – the fragrant scent of jasmine could be smelt all around creating a sophisticated vibe typical of a gentry's household.

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Chapter Three

Benjamin strode to what seemed to be a large iron chest. Parting his silk cloak he moved his hand to his belt removing the silver daggers sheathed across his waist. He placed the weapons gently into the chest closing the lid when finished.

'Welcome to my humble abode' Ben announced loudly as he smiled and walked over to Anastasia.

'_Who are you Mr Benjamin Gregory Archibald?'_ she asked seductively getting to her feet.

'I am one of the last of my kind; this house contains the memories of an ancient and past time'

'Tell me who you are' Anastasia demanded eagerly untying his cloak, letting it drop to the floor.

'Well it's been a very long time since I...' Benjamin said as his attention trailed off to Anastasia's low cut dress. Anastasia, noticing, giggled under her breath. Ben's lips parted and a cheeky smile appeared on his face – blushing he covered his face and began to laugh.

'What's so funny?' Anastasia said playfully twirling her hair.

'Nothing it's just...'

'No need to explain'

'It's just...'

Within a sudden movement Anastasia pressed her lips against his. Her sweet scent enticed Ben's imagination evoking a fire of passion within his what seemed dormant soul. He moved his hand to her leg and it all the way up to her thigh. Breaking the kiss, a stern look appeared on her face leaving Ben hopelessly confused. She pushed him on the couch and scowled heartlessly at the hunter.

'I'm so sorry, it's been so long' Benjamin said apologetically.

Anastasia's frown tore Ben's _heart_ in twain leaving him helplessly clawing for truth. She stared at him for a moment before revealing a wicked smile. She unzipped the back of her dress and let it fall to the floor. Anastasia's heart began pounding as she seemed to lose control of her being. Ben's eyes widened as he finally recognised that he had been _played_. She pounced onto the couch and then crawled into the embrace of Ben's open arms. Ripping off his shirt she smiled at the mysterious stranger before the soft kiss of her lover made its way all around her neck.

She knew that she couldn't tame such a complex beast with simple words. She needed to show him why life is worth preserving. Anastasia knew what she had to do but it would only be so long before people started looking for her.

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Chapter Four

The secluded room, buried deep within the confines of a large forest was completely isolated from the outside world. The sun's rays were but a favourite past time and the darkness of the shadows was the cold embrace of reality. Lying exhausted, lifeless and asleep the hunter lay in a deep sombre – vulnerable and weak. Anastasia laughed lightly under her breath discarding the macho first impression she had taken of him. He had revealed his true colours last night – the soulless beast was but a connoisseur of true passion.

Curious at her surroundings she got to her feet and ambled around the mysterious room. Cinders littered the fire place and the last cloud of dying smoke rose from the burnt remains. Walking slowly Anastasia ran her palm along the maple mantle tracing the knots of the varnished wood. A lone portrait of a beautiful lady was hung a pair of silver candle sticks. The figure in the painting was tall and slender with long locks of chestnut brown hair. She sat expressionless gazing into a pedestal mirror, lodged on her dresser. She wore a long black shawl wrapped around a pair of petite pallid shoulders. The mirror she was staring at bared no reflection; an icy cold look loomed in her pale blue eyes. Anastasia looked at the image wondering who the strange women was – she heard a footsteps approaching and spun around to be greeted by the cold leer of Benjamin.

'What are you doing?' he grunted.

'I was just looking around'

'It doesn't seem like that' Ben retorted.

'I'm interested about you – you never tell me anything. Who is she?'

'Her name was Freya - she was my _world_. It felt like we spent an eternity together. She was the light in my darkness. She taught me everything I know. I loved her like you wouldn't believe'

'Where is she?'

'She left me'

'What happened?

'She was murdered'

The mood had shifted.

'You remind me of her in a way – you're like a _kindred spirit_ of a different time. '

Anastasia looked at him with fading eyes – her compassion was overwhelming. She empathised with him completely but she had never experienced the same pain as he had.

There was a large bang on the door. All went silent. Ben looked towards the window and spied a small mob of people.

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Chapter Five

The tension was unbearable – her curiosity won. She moved swiftly towards the sturdy wooden door and unlatched the lock, removing the secure wooden beam. A deathly stare honed in towards her location as Benjamin eyed her from the other side of the room. Within a moment he was armed to the teeth strapped with weapons and armour of every description. A single steel katana hung by his side and his blood red eyes burnt with unjustifiable anger.

'Don't' he said softly.

'Do you know who it is?'

'I can sense their intentions'

'What are they?'

'It's your family, they know what you are, and they want to 'cleanse' your soul'

'That can't be...' Anastasia trailed off as she open the door with a great burst of speed.

The door swung open with momentum from the other side. In the door way stood three burly men armed with pitch forks and crucifixes. They were her family and they wanted her dead. Her brother, father and uncle stood directly in front of her and edged slowly towards her crosses held firmly in front of them.

'Marcus!' Anastasia rejoiced as she approached the three and through her arms around her brother.

A huge smile of relief appeared on her Brother's face as tears formed in his eyes. Marcus dropped his crucifix as he ran to meet the warm open arms of his sister. She jumped in his arms and they both smiled together. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her lightly into the air twirling her around and placing her lightly on her feet.

'I have missed you so much! I love you so much!' he yelled in joy.

'I have missed more than you can ever imagine!'

Her uncle, brother graham, dry-reached before collapsing to the floor – the sight he had just witnessed was too much for him to bear. Her father backed out the door way slowly before sprinting back into the wood. Anastasia's joyous expression turned sour – grimace covered her beautiful face.

'They have no idea' Marcus said comforting his kid sister. 'Father and Uncle Graham don't know it's really you. I can feel it's you deep inside; you my sister and I know you too well'. 'What has happened to you?' her brother asked as he stared awe struck at her crimson eyes.

'That is an interesting tale' Benjamin uttered bitterly from the corner dropping his sword.

'Where are my manners?' Anastasia said flirtatiously, 'This is Ben, Graham'

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Chapter Six

Ben looked at the Hunter Perched on a bar stool at the opposite side of the room. His stomach felt uneasy and his fear was emitting all around him. The two men met each other in the centre of the room engaging in the formalities of a 'proper greeting'. Ben placed his palm out in front of him quivering with fear before being relieved by the feel of Ben's hand. They both made a firm hand shake showing a sincere sign of tolerance and respect. The two started for the seats adjacent to the fire place sitting on either side of Anastasia.

The orange flames danced in the brick fireplace. The three stared aimlessly at the fire, attracted by its warmth. Anastasia wast nestled between the two most important people in her life – the two men who loved her for who she was. The hunter's fragmented affection comforted her in times of need and the presence of her brother uplifted her spirit. She was at a point of ultimate satisfaction, she was happy. The blissful mood was contagious; Ben and Graham were immersed in conversation – buried deep in discussion of swords of some description. Both were skilled swordsman and found interest in each other's company. Hours of fluent conversation was accompanied by the melodies of Anastasia's heart. She had found Ben's antique baby grand piano and serenaded the entire forest. Spirits were high, and by the end of a bottle of vintage scotch the trio all but quiet. In odd positions all over the velvet settee, the three gazed at the ceiling, mesmerised by the ancient wooden beams that hung above them.

Graham got to his feet and winked at his sister moving over to the door. Unlatching the bolt with a great amount of difficulty he slid outside to answer the call of nature. Anastasia rolled over to Ben and laid her hand on his chest – this might be the only privacy they would get during this night of nights and she was eager to make the most of it. Ben rolled onto his side and whispered lightly in her ear.

'I love you' he said softly.

Anastasia's expression turned from happiness to ecstasy as the few simple words she wanted to hear streamed into her ears. She smiled wickedly and jumped up onto Ben's lap. He ran his hands through her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He rocked her gently humming melodic lullaby lightly in her ear – a beautiful tune for the perfect night. Anastasia's eyes slowly began to close as Ben's humming became a slow crescendo before finally drawing to a close. He gently placed her arms around his shoulders and moved her to the bedroom. Placing her slowly on the bed he drew the cover and tucked her in. Benjamin moved his lips to her forehead and kissed her good night.

Marcus stumbled in smiling as his new friend could be seen from the door way. A naive smile formed on Ben's face instinctually acknowledging Marcus' response. The hunter sat down majestically with little or no effort before crossing his legs neatly. Marcus waddled through the door way and met his new acquaintance on the settee. Ben nodded in his direction before Marcus' lips opened.

'So who are you Mr. Benjamin Francis Archibald?'

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Chapter Six

Looking attentively in the Hunter's direction Marcus sat amazed absorbing the new information.

'Well, where should I begin? I have seen so much in my time but now I must go back to the beginning. For starters, my name isn't Benjamin Francis Archibald its Adair Freja Ventrue and I come from a long line of privileged fiends. My father was a noble within our ordered vampiric society – I am a pure blood, I was born a vampire. As you might know my kind stop aging at a certain period in our lives, our physical prime; those of us who have been turned however stop aging the day the transformation is complete. Anastasia will never experience the cruel hand of time on her beautiful body – she will sparkle as beautiful as a flawless diamond for the rest of eternity.

I was born and raised over the pond in pre-imperial France – I believe it was 1095, the year Pope Urban the second was inaugurated. My family were ruthless; the history books you read stretch their artistic licence to the very limit. The mythological creatures you treat as fiction have all existed during some period of time. The Ventrue ruled over barbaric France in times where you humans were nothing but disorganised animals. We only took those of you we needed to survive, but like most intelligent creatures, over time, you learnt to adapt. The golden days of vampiric rule could be traced to ancient times though by the dawn of the renaissance our power dwindled. My father was sovereign of his state – he ruled over modern-day Normandy. I was one of three brothers.

Antonius, Louie and myself – I have lost track of all my family. They disappeared into history.

I was banished – I couldn't stand the way family treated our own kind. There is a new thing in our world whereby your blood lines defines where you sit in society. 'Thin Bloods' are those of us who have been turned – my family exiled them and all their supporters. My father always said the closest ring in hell was for betrayers and my damned soul should spend an eternity with prince of darkness.

I would give anything for Freya; she was the love the love of my life.

I remember the first time I met her. She was perched on a balcony staring at the starry night sky. She let her long chestnut hair flow gently along her bare shoulders wearing nothing more than a lace corset. Freya was such a naive beauty, locked behind the gates for her family's state not knowing what the outside world had. Her father was a count and was a sceptic about anything supernatural. He was a devout catholic and saw it is has his divine calling to rid the Earth of anything more than human.

I saw her when I was riding. Time stopped, but the horse kept on moving, taking me further and further away from the jewel which had caught my eye. I remember it so clearly. I jumped off my horse and scaled the large stone wall which surrounded the compound. I didn't know her but I just had to speak to her. This was one of those defining moments in life where you had to make a decision which would impact the rest of your days. With a few agile movements I made my way to the bottom of her balcony gazing upwards at what seemed a heavenly beauty. She hummed a soft French lullaby gazing into the dark horizon. She knew I was there all along; it was as if she had a sixth sense. I quietly moved up towards her window sill and slowly slipped into her room. Her chambermaid had left for the night and she was left all alone in her room.

I moved the large wooden dresser on the opposite side of the room. I gently leant against it simply gazing at her expressionless. She moved her delicate finger tips to her head and gently stroked her hands through her hair. She repositioned herself and then tapped the ledge beside her. How did she know I was there?

'What's your name?' she asked curiously, completely calm.

I paused for a moment surprised and shocked.

'My name is Adair' I mumbled nervously.

'Are you Scottish?' she replied.

'My mother's side'

'My name is Freya'

She put out her hand in front of her expecting a hand shake. I took her hand gently and planted a suave kiss. Her cheeks turned a rosy red and she giggled lightly.

'Well I am French'

I began to laugh and walked over to her side.

'I don't even know you but I feel I can trust you with anything' she said openly.

'What if I asked you to come away with me, would you trust a stranger?'

She paused to think and without any hesitation she jumped off the balcony.

My heart raced in terror as I quickly leant over the ledge looking at the two storey drop below. Launching myself off the balcony I landed on my feet. She was behind me; I could feel her warmth breath on my icy cold back, she had landed in the small pond below her room. She moved her hand to mine and pulled me towards the wall. We slid through a small gap. Freya ran to my white horse and mounted. Soaking wet, she was wearing nothing but a lace corset; there were goose bumps all over her body from the cold French winter. I quickly jogged to the steed and jumped on with great ease. She kicked her feet and pulled up on the reins and we were off. I wrapped my arms around her bare body pulling her close to me. We rode for hours towards an unknown destination. We travelled all over Europe before the inevitable day came – she was growing old, but I would never give her the same fate as my own. She had never asked me about my history nor did she want to know. I was the man she had fell in love with and she was the girl who had stole my heart.

We had travelled all over but nowhere compared to Venice. Italy's best kept secret was the small town afloat – this place would one day be my home. That night was a full moon – a lunar giant illuminated the dark black sky. She danced elegantly on the terraced rooftop humming her little French lullaby while I dangled my feet over the ledge peering at the busy market place below us. She gazed up at the stars carelessly prancing gracefully dragging her fingers through the warm night's air. She looked at me with her beautiful hazel eyes and smiled. The ledge crumbled beneath her and she lost her footing. Her frivolous expression turned sour as she lost her balance. She was a hundred yards away; I knew I could reach her. I bolted to the edge but was too late – her clutching hands struggled for mine but I could meet her grasp. Time stopped as she slowly fell to the cobble stone square below us. She landed on her back and screamed in pain as I dived downwards. I landed beside her overwhelmed by grief. I had to save her; I loved her more than life itself.

I collapse to my knees studying her body before pulling her tight to me. A mysterious black aura had triggered itself and wrapped a protective ring around us. My eyes felt as if they were burning as I sensed her pulse slowly fading. I knew what had to be done. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I brushed her wavy chestnut away from her neck and then hesitated. I sunk my teeth into her skin as gently leaving two undistinguishable marks draining a little of her blood. I violently gnawed at my wrist trying to break my rock hard skin to no avail I drew my dagger and plunged it into my wrist letting my blood rush freely into her mouth. The crimson liquid trickled down her throat and her eyes burst open beaming with life. She gazed at me confused and then grabbed my wrist drinking more and more of my blood. I sat there helpless as the one I loved most sealed her own fate for eternity. I had caused this but it was not my burden to carry – it was hers. She stopped for a moment and looked desperately

'Freya I love you' I uttered weakly.

Her face looked gentle but then turned deathly white. She tilted her head and threw up all over the pavement. The transformation was working. We needed to get out of this place – we were both so weak and vulnerable. At my command the black aura began circling us. Faster and faster before all that could be seen were two blurred figures. In an instant I had made us invisible to common human sight. I gently lifted Freya and with great speed burst into a nearby barn. I lay her gently on a large pile of hay and ran my hands through her hair.

The next few weeks were daunting. The transformation was a long and pain-staking process. She would endure – I know she would. We bunkered ourselves in a small Venetian farm house. It had been abandoned for some time and hinted a worn but inviting charm. I boarded up all the windows and we spent most of our time in the cellar. Empty bottles of wine lined the walls dating from many decades earlier. A makeshift bed and a fresh supply of blood was all I could give her; I never strayed far from her side. I hummed a new song for her at nights – Pachelbel's Cannon.

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Stay tuned for part two :).

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	2. Part Two Preface

Kindred Spirits – Part Two – Adair's Past

Preface

The moon shone brightly in the starry Venetian skyline. The sun had all but retreated over the hills and the calm breeze of the night brushed against the abundance of pine trees present at the villa. The small cobble stone path which led up to the main building was weathered – the track had character, a well worn path which led to a well worn house. The path stopped at the door way, a large granite arch loomed over traditional Italian architecture which assumed the rest of the residence. The property served as a memory of mid-renaissance Italy – a time of discovery which saw a change in the old ways of doing things.

The dual rectangular door was a knotted maple timber. Large iron handles accompanied the weathered hinges which creaked every time they were opened. The beauty was not in the unique structure of the exterior but in the complex layout of the rooms within...

My eyes were locked on the door as I rushed towards the entrance. My smile grew larger by each passing step. She waits for me. I shall come to her. My love anticipates my return and I deny her my company - what a cheeky creature am I.

The happy years we have spent in this villa will never be taken away from me. We travelled all across the continent visiting wherever our hearts desired. My French beauty and I would reminisce during the day sharing tales of our adventures together and what we thought the future held for our love though by night we would hunt. The thrill of a fresh kill was an irresistible part of our existence – it is what we were made to do, we were mankind's only natural predator. We would only prey on the wicked; those souls who had committed sins equal to our own.

I arrived at the front door to find the lock unlatched. I paused for a moment to absorb what I was witnessing. My instinct told me something was wrong. My suspicion grew as I saw a window open and a familiar face pop out. I recognised that man – I had seen him before, but a long time ago. I dove for cover suspecting ill of this mysterious individual. I pressed myself on the wall adjacent to the door and slid silently across the door to meet a small window to the cellar. With one small kick the window was broken. I climbed stealthily through the small gap and made my way up the dusty stairs.

Murmurs cascaded through the acoustically sound room. There was a group of men, about three, in the study, I could feel their presence but not make any sense of what they were saying. My hands, without any forethought, made their way to my sides and rested themselves lazily on my silver daggers. I unsheathed the blades and crept towards the door. I sensed a man moving closer, the smell of his blood grew stronger by each passing second. He opened the door. I gazed at him menacingly. He did not have time to scream. I dropped one dagger and wrapped my hand over his mouth. I muffled his scream as my other hand plunged a dagger directly into his neck severing a major artery. Within a minute I released his lifeless body and gently placed it on the stairs. The door was open but something was not right. I recognised the loud ranting of one of the other men. It was Freya's father – how did he manage to find us after all these years?


	3. Part Two Chapter One

Chapter One

He looked at me with no remorse. His icy blue eyes stared in my direction – I could see into that man's soul, but there was nothing there. Freya's father, Jean-Baptise, had not aged since the day I saw him last. His rugged black hair and deathly pale complexion reminded me of a male resemblance of Freya. Her father was a deeply devout religious man. A single wooden crucifix attached to a string of beads dangled idly from his neck; its very sight sent shivers down my spine. He was a catholic; an emissary of the Papacy, the insignia on his black robes was a dead giveaway. He was one of Europe's most revered and feared vampire hunters. A crossbow was leant near the book case in the corner of the room – I eyed the weapon keeping a close watch on the other man to Jean's flank.

'Adair, it's a pleasure, to meet you again' Jean said politely with an insincere tone.

'The pleasure is all mine' I replied smugly.

I edged towards him, but he did not flinch. The man to his right was riddled with fear. The twisted expression rendered the man vulnerable. Jean looked at me cautiously, but was not bothered by my presence.

'Where is my daughter?' he demanded.

'I would like to ask you the same question'

'She is missing?'

'Obviously'

'Then I have no use for you'

Jean lunged for his crossbow whilst the other man dashed towards me. He swung his fist violently at my gut. I moved to the side. His careless blow left his side exposed – I capitalised. The point of my elbow met his rib cage shattering many of his bones. Out of breath, and winded, he fell to the floor, gasping for air. Jean grabbed and loaded his weapon firing a single bolt at my heart. My instincts took over; I caught the bolt and with great speed, launched myself at him. Bolt in hand, I stabbed it into his boot, he screamed in grave agony as he tried to reload. A crimson sheen blossomed over his black leather boots. The blood had soaked the hem of robe. His life force covered my hands; I could not resist the urge. My teeth slowly grew, the predator had won.

I dropped my silver daggers to the floor. My right hand slammed against his throat as I dragged him up the wall. The love of my life would not be subject to this man's torment – I would end him now so she would never have to feel any pain from her past. There was only Freya and I – we would build a future together.

'Please, think of Freya, she would not want this' Jean-Baptise pleaded with me.

'You came to kill her'

'How would you know if you haven't even asked why I am here?'

I paused for a moment and took time to take in what he just said.


	4. Part Two Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The clergyman struggled against my iron tight grasp. I knew he had taken her but this deception of his would not get the better of me. I wrestled him to an arm. Tearing his dark black robe I tied his arms firmly to the chair and slowly paced over to Jean's wounded accomplice. The sad excuse for life whimpered as he once again caught a glimpse of my luminously white skin; he shivered in angst at what the future held for him. My daggers were my tools and these two men my task – I knew that if I should fail I might never see my beloved once more.

'You're up first' Adair said cynically as he eyes directed him to the unknown man.

I paced over to him slowly and calculated my next course of action. He was weak, this would be used to my advantage, though deep down inside, the little part of me that remained human, felt a distorted empathy for this poor soul. Before the man could speak, my boot slammed viciously onto his knee shattering the bone releasing a ghastly wail from the victim's mouth – the clergyman watched helplessly in the corner uttering a pathetic prayer in Latin. I grabbed the man's mangled leg, by the thigh, and pulled close it to his head and asked him the same question repetitively, 'Where is she'. He would snap. I knew that before I began.

'She's in Tuscany, in the Church, in the centre of town' he whined.

I grabbed my dagger by the hilt and slowly began peeling the exposed flesh surrounding my victim's knee. 'Are you sure?' I asked simply.

'Yes!' the man shouted looking in horror at his leg.

I believed him, but I had second thoughts. I left the helpless man bleeding in the corner, Jean-Baptise was my next 'task'. He sat there motionless waiting for what he assumed to be a grim fate.

'I run under the impression that blood is thicker than water – but you aren't my family. Freya means the world to me; I give a meaning to her existence, you do nothing but squander her talents and see her but as an asset for your political position. For your knowledge she has been made a happy bride. She will not have the of time scar the perfect body which is her own. I did not turn her until it was completely necessary. She was going to pass but I have postponed her judgement for eternity. You are not able to comprehend that my kind is not much different for your own. We serve but as mediators of your expanse by keeping a watchful eye on all you do. Your kind constantly meddles with what should not be touched. Dark forces plague my kind but I do not tempt myself with their vices. I have lived for many centuries in Europe – I watch as your kind kill each other senselessly over land and power. You know nothing of my kind. You only know what we are in myth. This is but a curse that I am burdened with and must endure for my own survival. I prey on the wicked – your church preys on the vulnerable. You keep the truth from the people who drive the very society you call your own' I said in a fit of anger.

I could not control myself; the appending rage which had once buried itself had once again emerged. I did not think, I acted – his fate was now sealed and I would live forever with the consequences of my actions.


End file.
